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Izuku had been looking at the sky for close to an hour, getting more and more nervous with each breath he took. I’ll meet you at the gates when the Evening Star sets. He’d gathered all of his modest belongings in his trusted brown bag, and he’d been waiting near the gates since sunset. The Evening Star was only a finger’s width above the horizon, and when it set, he’d know if Shouto was alive or he’d been caught by Enji while trying to leave.
He started to go over the constellations in his mind, to stop himself from thinking. There was Draco, a reminder of the Barbarian King and his dragon. Next to it was the North Star that had guided his journey since he’d left his home. Close to it was Cygnus. Shouto had always said that he envied the way it looked like it was flying, free from any ties to the ground. Then there was—
“I see you’re lost in the stars again.”
There would never be a time when his heart wouldn’t jump at that voice. “Shouto! Oh, I’m so happy you made it!”
The prince gave him a soft smile with his face glowing in the moonlight, and Izuku jumped into his arms, giving him no time to prepare. Shouto’s arms wrapped around him with a surprised sound and Izuku squeezed his legs like he was trying to glue their bodies together.
“Of course I made it. I would never anyone keep me away from you.”
“I would’ve murdered King Enji myself if he dared try.”
They could have this. After all the pain Izuku had gone through on his journey, after all the suffering Shouto had endured at Enji’s hands, after all the fear and uncertainty that they’d never see each other again, they would finally get to have this. Izuku pulled Shouto down into a kiss and he poured his heart into it, pulling him as close as he could.
He pulled away to breathe, resting his forehead on Shouto’s. “So, are you ready to go on an adventure with me?”
“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”
“Fuyumi will make an amazing queen,” Izuku said, because it was true.
“She will.” Shouto’s eyes turned wistful for a moment. “I said goodbye to her, before I left. She said she saw it coming.”
Izuku was the only one who felt the need to give one final look to the castle. He owed it a lot. Shelter, the opportunity to train his magic, Shouto. It was gorgeous in the moonlight, the gold on the banners almost ethereal. The grey walls were grown-in with poison ivy on only on side. Where Fuyumi and Natsuo lived.
He intertwined his fingers with Shouto’s, looking away.
*
They walked through the night for a small eternity, never letting their hands part, not even when they had to climb over fences and jump over streams. Darkness swirled in Izuku’s chest whenever he looked behind them. It wasn’t until they crossed the border from Endeavor to the Iida kingdom that his muscles relaxed, his death grip on Shouto’s hand easing into a sweet caress of his fingers.
The smell of stew and smoke coming from a nearby tavern made Izuku stop. He finally registered the ache in his body, and he was sure that Shouto wasn’t used to going without eating for more than an afternoon. And why shouldn’t they stop? As far as the Iida kingdom was concerned, they were travelers like any other. He tugged Shouto’s hand and dragged him into the inn.
“Is this how you spend your nights when you’re on the run?” Shouto asked, his breath warm against Izuku’s ear. It elicited a small shiver that he tried to hide.
“I’m not followed by enemies that often, you know. Most of the time I just make new friends— don’t look at me like that, Endeavor and Shie Hassaikai are exceptions! But I do spend a lot of time in inns, and I like it a lot. I’m sure you will too, soon enough.”
And he really did. If Izuku had any doubts that his lover would be content living a life like his, they were gone when Shouto started laughing at a bard with electricity magic telling the (visibly exaggerated) stories of his love affairs. He liked the food, but he made a face when he tried beer for the first time.
“Let’s dance!”
Shouto didn’t seem convinced, but he agreed. It was awkward at first, because he kept stepping on Izuku’s toes, but he was a fast learner. By the end of their third dance, Shouto was no different from any of the other dancers. When he put a hand low on Izuku’s hip, it was his turn to step on Shouto’s toes, leaning against his chest to hide his blush.
“What is it, love?”
He tightened his hand as he asked, making Izuku think maybe he wasn’t as oblivious as he was acting. Izuku exhaled against Shouto’s neck a few times until he trusted himself to speak. “It’s nothing.”
“If you say so,” Shouto said.
Throughout the evening, he kept touching Izuku in ways that were just on the edge of proper. A hand on his thigh when they were at the table, a kiss on his neck that lingered, a brush of his fingers low on his back. It was maddening.
“Can we go to our room?” Izuku asked, turning impatient.
“One last thing.” Shouto grabbed his shoulders and kissed him. Then again. And again. And again. “Twenty-one kisses, because you’re turning twenty-one.”
“You knew that?”
“I asked your mother.”
Izuku hugged him, overwhelmed by affection. Whenever someone that wasn’t his mother celebrated his birthday, it made him tear up, choked by memories of a time when nobody remembered.
*
When they got to their room, Shouto dragged Izuku on top of him on the freshly-made bed. His left side was warm, making Izuku sigh and nuzzle against his neck. Shouto still clung on like he’d disappear any second. He smelled like lilac and the distinct warm, spicy scent of his magic. Like love.
After a few minutes, Shouto stood up, moving so that Izuku was now in his lap. He opened his eyes briefly and dropped a kiss on the edge of his scar, before closing them again and looping his arms around Shouto’s neck.
“Izu, I have something for you.”
He perked up slightly. It was probably something simple, but given from love. Izuku was ready to melt from fondness.
“What is it?”
“Kiss me and I might tell you.”
“That’s rude,” Izuku said and kissed him regardless. He pulled away and spoke against Shouto’s lips. “What kind of gift comes with conditions?” Weak to the spell Shouto had him under, he brought their lips together again.
“Do you mind?”
When Izuku didn’t respond, his lips quirked up into a smirk. He reached for his bag and pulled out a very worn-out book. He handed it to Izuku, keeping a hand on his shoulder like he hated being separated even for a second. It was covered in cracked brown leather, and the title was spelled in what looked like real gold. Izuku’s breath caught.
“Is this...” He trailed off, unable to say it out loud.
“Yoichi’s Compendium of Spells and Magical Artefacts? Yes. I think you deserve to have it more than my father.”
“I—Shouto, this is way too much! We all thought it was lost, Nana Shimura and my mentor and I and— You just gave it to me like it’s nothing! He’s the first one to use my magic, and this could mean a new way to see One for All…"
Izuku ran out of steam after a few minutes, Shouto looking at him with a small smile the whole time. He couldn’t believe this. Yoichi’s book. Yoichi’s. Maybe they’d make more of a difference for everyone else now. He flipped open the book, finding an animal transformation spell, and he started to cast it.
Absentmindedly, Shouto’s cold hand slipped from his shoulder upward, rubbing small circles across the back of his neck. Izuku’s next word ended in an embarrassing whine.
The hand stilled. “Are you alright?”
Izuku’s cheeks reddened, as he realized that he was still in Shouto’s lap, feeling like putty under his hands. He wanted to grab his neck and grind down, kissing him until he wasn’t the only one affected. He buried his head in Shouto’s neck, too flustered to respond.
“Izu, talk to me. Did something happen?”
Ugh, his voice. Stupidly shiver-inducing.
“I—it’s nothing. Your hand just—”
Shouto carded a hand through his hair in what should’ve been a soothing gesture, but Izuku shivered in response. His fingers tightened, pulling and bringing his head so they were looking in each other’s eyes. With his eyes on Izuku’s, he started rubbing circles over his neck again. Goosebumps formed over his skin and he tried not to react, he really did, but when Shouto pressed down harder he whimpered.
Shouto looked at him with something like awe in his eyes.
“Oh. You like it, don’t you? Is that why you were acting desperate when we were dancing?” There was a kind of urgency to his tone, and Izuku couldn’t look away. He nodded. His blush must have spread down his neck at this point.
“I wasn’t acting desperate!”
Shouto pressed against his neck again and silenced him immediately, but this time he didn’t even have the time to moan, because he captured his lips into a kiss. It wasn’t like before, no longer sweet but harsh and unyielding. Shouto’s lips were soft against his, and he was licking insistently, making Izuku’s head even hazier. He pulled Izuku closer to his chest, so close he had to feel how fast Izuku’s heart was beating.
“Wait, the book—”
He grabbed it and put it on the bedside table, twisting awkwardly so he didn’t get out of Shouto’s lap. He never wanted to leave. After all the time they’d spent hiding at the castle, being able to touch each other properly wasn’t something he’d give up. He pulled Shouto’s head down, kissing him again and Shouto didn’t hesitate to chill the hand on his neck. His hips twitched involuntarily. The cold felt so good against his overheated skin.
Shouto’s hand dipped under the neckline of his shirt, roaming over his back, still cold enough that the temperature difference electrified him. Izuku gasped into his mouth. The kiss turned almost frantic, their teeth clashing against each other, but it was all so warm and cold at once that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. Izuku reached blindly for the buttons on Shouto’s jacket. He managed to unbutton one of them when Shouto pulled away, breathing hard.
“We don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to, Izu. Just because we’re alone doesn’t mean we need to.”
The genuine worry on his face that Izuku could somehow not want this was so endearing, he pressed a kiss against his forehead. “Did I ever tell you you’re not the most aware, sometimes?”
“Once or twice,” Shouto said with a small smile. “Help me understand, then.”
Izuku pressed his body down slowly, watching Shouto’s eyes darken. He was obviously hard, and he let out a low sound when Izuku rocked against him again. Shouto’s breath was warm on his face, almost as fast as his own. He reached for the jacket again and this time he took it off with no resistance. When he tried to unbutton his shirt, Shouto grabbed his wrist, pinning his hand against his thigh.
“I thought you said to show you what I want,” Izuku said, definitely not whining.
Shouto leaned down, speaking against his ear in a low voice. “I had an idea. It’s your birthday, Izu. I want to take care of you.” Izuku shivered, his back arching slightly against Shouto’s arm. “Unless you don’t want that?” There was a smirk on his lips this time, and it was stupid, and it made Izuku long for him more.
“Of course I—” Whatever he was about to say, he didn’t know, because Shouto chose that moment to bite down on his neck. It drew a too-loud moan out of him. He was about to apologize, but when he looked down, Shouto seemed hungry. He moved his hand over Izuku’s back agonizingly slowly, drawing another embarrassing sound out of him when he touched his hips.
When Shouto started sucking bruises across his collarbones, he pressed his head further in, until he was sure the marks would be visible for days. He was so hard it hurt. Every time Shouto’s teeth brushed against the marks he felt like he was on fire, and he never wanted it to go out. Shouto moved his hand up, unbuttoning his shirt while he kissed and licked down toward his chest.
Izuku moaned again, and Shouto’s hand stuttered on the last button. He recovered quickly, pushing the shirt off and leaving Izuku completely exposed. He had a moment to feel self-conscious before Shouto sighed.
He was blushing. Shouto, the man nicknamed by his kingdom The Ice Prince, was blushing because he was looking at Izuku. His cock throbbed in his pants.
Shouto raked his hands over his ribs reverently. He dropped down and left another mark, this time on his hip, and Izuku knew in that moment he would never have anyone else. He belonged to Shouto.
The slow, torturous exploration of his body continued, Shouto kissing and licking and biting everywhere he could. Izuku stopped controlling the sounds that were coming out of him, moaning loudly when he pressed against his erection through his clothes. Then his hand moved away like it was never there in the first place, dragging his nails over Izuku’s chest and making his hips twitch. The fire inside him burned and burned, higher every time Shouto’s teeth found his nipples, every time Shouto pressed over his neck.
“Please, Sho, I can’t,” he said. He dug his nails into Shouto’s shoulders when the answer was a harsh, almost bruising pressure on his hips.
“Do you need something, love?”
Izuku took Shouto’s hand and put it where he needed it the most. He pushed into it with a moan and Shouto responded with a low groan, sounding pained.
It was like something snapped in him. He pushed Izuku’s hand away and wrapped an arm around his waist, resting his warm hand over Izuku’s stomach and leaving him no space to move. He made quick work of Izuku’s remaining clothes and pushed them somewhere on the floor— there was no way that was clean, come on—then he wrapped a hand around Izuku’s cock and all coherent thought left him. He moaned against Shouto’s chest, tightening his grip on his shoulders.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Shouto said, at the same time as he started moving his hand at an agonizingly slow pace. Izuku whined.
He wasn’t sure what he was saying, but he was definitely talking, a broken string of his lover’s name and sounds of pleasure leaving him. Shouto was sucking more bruises into his neck, seemingly not preoccupied with how he’d look the next day. Maybe he liked it.
Wetness was leaking out of him steadily, slicking Shouto’s hand and making the fire spike in his body. Just when he thought it would consume him entirely, Shouto stopped.
“What are you doing?”
Shouto raised an eyebrow. “What am I doing?”
Like he didn’t know. Izuku kissed him, putting all of his frustration into it. He bit down before he pulled away, and Shouto moaned. That didn’t help at all, because the sound brought him right back to the edge.
Shouto took a small object out of his bag, and when opened the cork Izuku could see that it was a glass bottle of oil.
“Did you really bring that from the palace?”
“I told you I want to take care of you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
The thought of Shouto, alone, thinking of— of taking care of him was too much. He thrust his hips, trying to get any friction and finding none.
Oil was dripping down Shouto’s fingers, onto his thigh, but he didn’t seem to care. His eyes were fixed on Izuku, whose cock twitched at the attention.
“Please,” he whispered.
Shouto kissed his neck, murmuring praise against it while he circled his hole with slick fingers. It hurt a bit when he pushed his first finger insider, but Izuku rocked back into Shouto’s hand with a quiet whine. He’d missed it, feeling full like this.
His muscles tensed as Shouto’s touch started to be more forceful. He felt small, held in Shouto’s lap firmly, with no choice but to take whatever sweet torture Shouto wanted to give him.
Izuku pulled Shouto into another kiss, but he could barely move his lips with how hard he was panting, and he ended up just moaning against Shouto’s mouth. He meant to beg for more, and it came out messy and stuttered, but Shouto understood him regardless. The next finger felt like a stretch. He was close again.
“You’re so warm around me, Izu, it makes me want to be inside you. You’re gorgeous.”
His mind went fuzzy at the praise, and he must’ve almost screamed against Shouto’s neck, his head dropping down helplessly. Shouto pulled his fingers out, making him shiver. Before he could beg to be filled again, he thrust in with three, slicker than before. Izuku was so close. When he tried to rock down, Shouto’ s hand slipped to his hip and held him still, sure to leave bruises. He moaned again. It was so frustrating, he needed more, and Shouto was following his own pace, completely unbothered.
Then Shouto curled his fingers and Izuku’s hips twitched again. He whined, and he was probably drooling, and he couldn’t think of anything but the way Shouto seemed to hit the same spot that made him see stars every time.
“Shou, please, I can’t, I’m gonna…”
Shouto stopped. Again. Izuku glared at him through tear-stained lashes and he got a forehead kiss in response.
“We can’t have that yet.”
He was split between annoyance and affection when Shouto started kissing his freckles with his fingers still not moving inside him.
After a while, Shouto’s lips found his, licking into his mouth just as he started to move his fingers again. He took his time, pressing into that spot repeatedly and then turning his thrusts shallow, until Izuku couldn’t do anything but moan weakly against him. He’d been close for so long that he didn’t understand how it kept getting worse, the tension now almost unbearable, tightening all of his muscles.
His teeth scraped against Shouto’s collarbone, and finally, finally, he started moving his fingers at a steady pace. Izuku could barely find it in him to warn him, scared he might stop again. “I’m close, please, not again, don’t, please—”
Shouto slowed his pace a bit. “Do you want to finish on my fingers, or on my cock?”
The idea of Shouto inside him made warmth stab through Izuku’s stomach. “Oh, fuck me, come on, please,” he whined.
Shouto wasted no time. He turned Izuku so he was straddling him and he kicked his trousers down aggressively. He didn’t take his fingers out of Izuku while he poured oil over his cock, hissing at the sensation. Izuku mouthed at his shoulder impatiently.
The whine of protest he let out when Shouto removed his fingers turned into a moan at the new, more intense stretch. It wasn’t like anything he’d felt before. He needed more. Or he’d die.
Shouto groaned as he set a rough pace, clearly as out of patience as Izuku. After a few thrusts, he started hitting that spot again and Izuku could feel tears running down his cheeks.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Shouto said in a rough voice.
He couldn’t do this, it was too much, he needed more, he needed— he tried to buck his hips, and Shouto started thrusting harder, pressing his prostate—he was moaning, incoherent, lost in the pleasure, and it built and built until Shouto tangled his fingers in his hair and pulled ever so slightly.
He came so hard his vision went white.
When he was functional again, he was beside Shouto in the bed. His thighs felt wet with come and oil and sweat, but that was a problem for later.
“Did you….?”
“Of course I did. You sound so good, love. It’s a miracle I lasted that long.”
Izuku smiled lazily, the praise making his chest feel warm.
“Happy birthday, Izu,” Shouto said and kissed his forehead.